


Past Mistakes

by Burgie



Category: Star Stable Online
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: Mr Sands reflects on the mistakes he's made with his children in the past.





	Past Mistakes

Mr Sands leaned on the railing surrounding the top of the Dark Core oil platform with a heavy sigh. The barge, and the four girls, four horses, and one young man on it, was long gone now. He’d watched it leave from this very spot, not surprised at all that the Jorvik Warmblood had sprouted wings in a shimmering flash of light. He’d sensed something about that horse the first time that it had come here, when his imbecile goons had mistaken it for his grandson’s horse. There had been a light in it, one so bright that it had caused Sabine to feel ill and weak. He hadn’t felt much better, being in that horse’s presence. He wondered how Justin felt around such strong light.

Mr Sands closed his eyes as he thought about his grandson. That was a pain that he still wasn’t quite ready to deal with just yet. To see that Justin lacked his powers… that had been a kick in the gut that was almost enough to keep him down. And yet, he hadn’t been able to just let his fellow Generals kill his grandson. Not after he’d already lost so much.

Eighty years ago, Mr Sands, then known as a young man by the name of John Sands, had begun his experiment. Though, it hadn’t begun specifically as an experiment to create a new Dark Rider. It had merely been an idea, a whim, a fancy. Taking his child to work had been a fool’s errand, in hindsight.

“What is that?” Sabine had asked, wrinkling her nose up at the small boy who had clutched his father’s hand so tightly.

“This is my son, Sabine,” Mr Sands had said. “Jerry, meet Sabine.” The little boy had looked up at her, and, when he had taken Sabine’s hand in his chubby little fist, Sabine had gasped and quickly recoiled. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“I forgot that our children possess powers,” Sabine had murmured, looking at the red patch on her hand where lightning had struck. “Who did you breed with to make this?”

“Just a human woman,” Mr Sands had said. But already, the gears in his mind had begun turning. If he could create a child this strong, then…

Since that day, Mr Sands had taken Jerry to work with him at every opportunity. His mother had fretted, of course, not wanting her precious son to be around so much dangerous machinery. Mr Sands had assured her that he would be fine, that he would keep an eye on his boy.

On Jerry’s eighteenth birthday, Mr Sands had taken him in to view the relic room.

“What’s this, dad?” Jerry had asked, looking around in amazement at all of the relics locked away in their glass cabinets.

“This is my relic room,” Mr Sands had said, gesturing his arm out to encompass the whole room. “It is where I keep all of the powerful artefacts that I have come across in my travels. Take a look around, see which one you are drawn to.”

He had been both unsurprised and delighted when Jerry had stopped in front of the cabinet holding the lightning orb. When he’d touched it, his eyes had blazed a blinding white, and he’d grinned as the power had surged through him. His son had been so easy to train, taking to his new abilities. Mr Sands had even procured some robes for him, so that his lightning son could look the part of the lightning master that he quickly became.

Taking him into battle with the Soul Riders, however, had been a mistake. That cycle’s generation were old by that point, and they had not aged as well as the Generals did. Every one of them had grey streaked through their hair if they weren’t already entirely grey, but they could still move as quickly as ever. Their horses, too, never tired, though Mr Sands knew well that when the Soul Riders died, their horses would make their way to the graves of their Rider and lie down to perish, their souls bonded even in death to make way for the new batch.

It had been that generation’s Alex who had struck the killing blow. How fitting, that lightning should defeat lightning. The Soul Strike had hit home, not in Jerry’s chest but in his lightning orb, which had absorbed the powers. Mr Sands still remembered the way that this son had jerked and spasmed, the way that his body had locked up, the way that his mouth had opened in one final scream of pure agony as his eyes had bulged in their sockets. The way his limp hand had finally dropped the lightning orb, which had shattered, unleashing the lightning that flickered eternally in its depths.

His wife had been inconsolable. Sands had, too. For, though this had been a mere experiment, it had begun as a simple man’s desire to have a child. His heir, his progeny. But now, it was gone.

After the death of his wife (who had died of a broken heart), Sands had not remarried for quite some time. Many women had wished to marry him, of course, all after his money and position as the head of the quite illustrious Dark Core energy company. But he hadn’t remarried, not for a very long time. The death of Jerry had shaken him too much.

Forty years after the death of Jerry, Mr Sands had finally remarried. The Baroness of Silverglade had been a spunky young woman, full of fire and life, and her title had been simply too good to pass up. Besides, he’d needed a link to the people of Jorvik other than just as an employer, so that they would not hate him and would instead view him as a respectable member of the community. As it had turned out, the Baroness had been quite the fertile young lady, as fertile as the fields that she owned, and she had grown large with his children, twin boys, before their first year together had passed.

Thomas and Aaron had not possessed Jerry’s lightning powers. Not a one of them flickered with electricity. But, late one night, when Thomas had awoken crying when he’d been just a toddler, Mr Sands had run into his sons’ room. And there, he’d found Thomas, crying under his blankets, while Aaron had slept peacefully. 

“What’s the matter, Tommy?” Mr Sands had asked, trying to soothe his crying son. Thomas had sniffled, snot streaming from his nose as he’d peeked over his father’s shoulder.

“M-m-monster,” Tommy had stammered, pointing. Mr Sands had looked, not with a normal father’s fake concern, but with real concern. For he knew that monsters existed in the world, after all, he was one.

And, sure enough, there, in the corner, had been a monster. A small thing, crouching in the shadows, looking very much like a large flea with the head of a dog. But the teeth were too large for the mouth.

Standing from the bed, Mr Sands had strode over to the monster, purpose in his step, and had raised a foot to crush the monster. But then, Aaron had awoken with a cry of his own.

“No, daddy!” Aaron had cried, reaching a little hand out. “Don’t hurt him, he’s my pet!”

Slowly, Mr Sands had turned around to look back at his son. One, crying at the thought of the monster being destroyed. The other, cowering in shadow. But the placement of the moon meant that shadows should not be thrown over the boys, as Aaron’s shadow stretched out across the floor.

Remembering his mistakes from Jerry, though, Mr Sands had not taken Tommy and Aaron with him to work. Not at first. Instead, he’d tutored them, teaching Thomas how to bring the shadows to him or use them to hide. The boys had quite enjoyed playing hide and seek that way. It had taken quite a bit more effort, however, to get Aaron’s monster summoning under control. The boys were due to start school soon, he couldn’t have Aaron getting scared and throwing monsters at his classmates.

But then, after Thomas had broken his ankle attempting to levitate, his wife had found out. And she’d been furious.

“But don’t you see? Those boys have a great destiny!” Mr Sands had shouted at her. His wife had scoffed, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Yes, those boys do have a great destiny as heirs to the Silverglade name,” his wife had said. “But they do not need to become monsters.”

“I possess those powers too,” Mr Sands had said. “Does that make me a monster?”

“Yes,” his wife had said with no hesitation. “Now, leave my property or I will have the druids banish you.”

And, fearing what the druids would do to his sons more than what they would do to him, Mr Sands had left. But he’d stayed around. As the boys had played around the side of the manor one day, Mr Sands had stepped out of the shadows and appeared to them, casting no shadow despite the brightness of the day.

“Hello, my sons,” Mr Sands had said, smiling gently at them. They’d been cautious of him, moving away, which had broken his heart. His face had instantly fallen.

“Mama said to stay away from you,” Thomas had said, every single part of his body trembling. “She said that you’re a bad man.”

“Oh, but I’m not,” Mr Sands had said. “I’m your father. Didn’t you like our lessons?”

“Y-yes,” Aaron had said, nodding, though he still trembled. “But mama said for us not to use magic anymore.”

“You’ll never learn how to control it if you don’t use it,” Mr Sands had said, kneeling down on one knee. “You’ll scare the others at school with your monsters, Aaron.” Aaron had sniffled, his magic already calling to life a snake demon that slithered around his arm, its too many eyes blinking.

“Okay,” Thomas had said, nodding. “You can teach us in secret. I’ll hide us in the shadows.” Mr Sands had smiled.

Their education had, sadly, only continued until the two boys were old enough to head off to college. That was when his ex-wife had found out. He’d thought that she’d been furious before, but hell hath no fury like a woman disobeyed. Especially a Silverglade woman.

“I told you to leave my boys alone,” she’d snapped, striding into the winery cellar on that day. Aaron’s monster had instantly disappeared, and Thomas’ shadows had returned to their regular spots.

“And I told you that they need education, guidance,” Mr Sands had replied, angry now.

“Education, you say?” the woman had asked, and the smile on her face had been pure evil. “That is actually a wonderful idea. I will send the boys away to college, that way, you can never get to them.” Mr Sands’ stomach had dropped, and he’d shaken.

“Don’t take my boys away,” he’d said, his heart breaking. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He’d fallen to his knees, begging, pleading with her.

“I told you to stay away from them, and you didn’t listen,” said the Baroness. “They will do a great deal better at school.”

“Fine then,” Mr Sands had said, standing, a snarl twisting his features when it became quite clear that his ex-wife wasn’t going to back down on this. He’d disappeared, fleeing back to his lair, but not before leaving one last parting gift with his ex-wife.

Mr Sands had not returned to Silverglade until this next child had been born. Standing over her crib, just another shadow in the moonlit nursery, he’d felt the strong magic emanating from her. And he’d smiled.

But now, Mr Sands opened his eyes on the empty oil rig. He was not smiling. Instead, he felt like a failure. Perhaps he was a failure. He hadn’t managed to recruit his first children after Jerry, not able to take them from his wife. Even Anastasia, his little girl, had been more interested in fashion and make up than her heritage, her destiny. But she definitely used her powers. Mr Sands had seen her beseeching a man to take her on a date, using her literal powers of persuasion to get what she wanted. She would have been a good recruit, but she just did not want to live on, as she called it, ‘a stinky old oil rig out in the middle of nowhere’. Why should she live there when she had a beautiful apartment in Jorvik City?

And now, not only had he failed in this quest, but he’d also failed in even passing on his powers to the next generation. That was a pity. Still, at least he’d managed to save Justin from death, but even that had been someone else doing the saving. At least his grandson was alive, even if he was powerless. That was something, at least. And he’d take it.


End file.
